Until We Get It Right
by foreverwriting9
Summary: Somehow he's begun to tangle himself up in her life. What scares her is that right now she doesn't seem to mind. Moments between Castle and Beckett during 'A Rose For Everafter' and 'Sucker Punch'.


She can't forget the way he looks at Kyra. Like she amazes him, like he wants to follow her anywhere she goes.

(Beckett doesn't realize it, but he looks at her like that too.)

"We met in college. We were together nearly three years." It's a quiet admission, but it fills up the elevator quickly, echoing strangely in Beckett's ears.

"I didn't ask," she says, but really she's been asking since the very beginning, since Kyra turned around and whispered his name like a prayer.

"Yes, you were not asking very loudly."

It should probably scare her that Castle can read her so easily, but it doesn't. (Not yet, at least.) "She's different from your ex-wives." Beckett can't stop the thought from rolling off her tongue. "She's _real._I didn't think you went for real."

She realizes a second too late that she might have sounded rude.

As she's stumbling for something to say, she glances up at him, and catches the look on his face. It's hurt and regret and just a touch of longing, and _crap_, Beckett has no idea how to deal with this side of Castle.

"Tough breakup?" she asks as the elevator lurches to a halt, and she really just wants to kick herself as soon as the words escape her mouth.

"It was a long time ago," he says, and then walks out of the elevator, leaving Beckett to wonder and hypothesize and _wish_.

XXX

She's mad at him. He almost ruined the interrogation, he wants to throw the groom in jail for murder, and he's making her feel _jealous_. She hates that. She hates feeling jealous of a woman whose bridesmaid was just murdered.

"You're just too close to this case," she says, and she wants to leave, but he stops her.

"You mean I'm too close to _her_."

Irritation curls inside of her chest. "Yes," she answers briskly, "and you know how I know that? If you weren't you'd be all over the possibility that Kyra could have killed Sophie."

"That's impossible."

Beckett hates that he's so sure of Kyra's innocence. "See that's not what Richard Castle would say." She feels silly acting like she knows him so well, but it's true. He's supposed to spin endless, sometimes ridiculous theory, and it throws Beckett off that he's suddenly not doing that. "He would paint a picture about the night before the wedding..."

If Castle won't invent some grand story about how the murder happened, then Beckett will just do it herself.

When she finishes, she throws herself down in her chair and picks up some paperwork.

"You sound like me, Beckett," he says, and she thinks he sounds almost sad.

"Yeah," she replies stiffly, trying to focus on signing her name, "I guess you're rubbing off on me."

He sits down next to her and plucks the pen from her fingers. "You missed the part where the Mafia ordered the hit on Sophie because of her past dealings with the family though."

Beckett looks up and gives him a small smile. "I knew I was forgetting something."

XXX

He asks her to dance at Kyra's wedding.

She looks surprised for a second, but quickly covers it with a frown. "No, Castle."

"But Beckett-" he whines.

She rolls her eyes and walks away before he can finish.

(She spends the rest of the night trying to hide from him, and he spends his time finding her and casually brushing against her until she threatens him with bodily harm.)

XXX

Beckett's surprised when she ends up standing outside of his apartment door.

_Life never delivers anything we can't handle._

She wishes she could stop shaking, because he's bound to notice, and she really can't do this, doesn't _know_how to do this.

She knocks quietly, half hoping he won't answer.

The door swings open almost immediately, because he'll always answer, he'll always be there for her.

"Hey." His gaze is a little soft around the edges, and Beckett feels her stomach drop just a little bit.

_Life never delivers anything we can't handle._

"Hey."

His hand is warm on her back as he ushers her into his apartment and promises to do _anything_ she needs him to do, _anything_ she wants him to do. Beckett's heart thuds dangerously in her chest, and as she notices the overwhelming sincerity in his eyes, she can't help but wonder when he became so much like a _partner_.

"What I want is to find my mother's killer."

They start from there.

XXX

She can still feel Dick Coonan's blood under her fingernails long after she's washed her hands. It makes her nauseous, so she tries desperately to think of something else, something not related to assassins or family or Castle. (Somehow he's begun to tangle himself up in her life. What scares her is that right now she doesn't seem to mind.)

"It wasn't your fault, you know," Beckett says evenly, fingers dancing across a container of food. Castle needs to know, because otherwise she's sure he'll spend all his nights tossing and turning and blaming himself.

"I overstepped," he starts, and she has a feeling she knows where this is going. "I came down here to say that I was sorry, and that I'm through. I can't shadow you anymore. If it wasn't for me-"

Beckett leans forward quickly, pressing her fingers into his arm. "If it wasn't for you I never would have found my mom's killer."

He doesn't really look like he believes her, so she squeezes his arm and tells him to stay, because he makes things _fun_, because she wants him there when they finally catch the person responsible for her mother's death. (He's become so much more important in her life than she ever thought possible.)

XXX

She hugs him goodnight.

"Thank you, Castle," she says into his shoulder, and she means _thank you for the food, thank you for being here, and thank you for staying_.

He grins down at her, and in the dim light of the precinct his smile is blinding. "You're welcome, Detective."

Beckett pulls away and picks up her coat. "See you tomorrow?"

"Always."


End file.
